The Art of Normal

For instance, no one in my family particularly likes touching the quilts in a motel room, except to push them off the bed and into a corner of the room. But I do that because my family does that. It’s just normal. Up to me, I’d just use the quilt without thought.

Speaking of hotels, why is it that their showers are never right? Either freezing or boiling, not enough spray or bullets on your back.

Speaking of hotels again, I now feel like wearing a fluffy robe with grapes sitting by my bed. Oh, and air con. And fluffy pillows! But not hard pillows (shudder). Ooh, and a nice bathtub.

Anyway. Normalcy.

That’s why living in community is kind of a shock in some instances; people grew up with different ‘normals’. One person thinks something is okay but someone else finds it bizarre, incorrect, offensive, or just plain annoying. The latter is personally my favourite.

In unrelated topics, remember how yesterday was so hot? Today the rain came, and it was beautiful. I was walking up a footpath by myself, taking my time (which I don’t do often), looking at the petals on the ground, and there was slow rain. It wasn’t heavy rain, the drops weren’t close together, and it was refreshing and slight.

It was just lovely, and I wanted to share it because a) otherwise this blog post was mostly about hotel rooms and that’s weird b) I really am struggling to think of things to write about and c) the rain really was genuinely a beautiful moment. Thank you Jesus!